


Dear Sarah

by A_Ravens_Plague



Category: Therapy writing - Fandom
Genre: Finished
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 06:45:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17678468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Ravens_Plague/pseuds/A_Ravens_Plague
Summary: So, I've been doing some therapy writing. I only write when I just want my mind on something other than life really, and unfortunately the only topic I'm good at writing about is sad shit, but I'll share it with you. ~Swan





	Dear Sarah

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've been doing some therapy writing. I only write when I just want my mind on something other than life really, and unfortunately the only topic I'm good at writing about is sad shit, but I'll share it with you. ~Swan

Dear Sarah,

It’s me again. It’s been awhile since we’ve last talked. I’m still the same old me, kind of. A lot of things have happened since we’ve last spoke. I miss us ya know, the old us. Sometimes I sit and wonder what happened between us. We were so close, inseparable if you will. And now I can’t even remember the color of your eyes. We shared everything. And now, now we share silence. I can’t help but think of the last conversation we had. It replays in my mind every night before I close my eyes, and every morning as I wake. It was bad, real bad. The worst fight we’ve ever been in since we’d met. It’s like a terrible song you can’t forget, but you sing along to it anyways. The screams, the broken glass. I don’t normally ever regret anything I do but I must say, I regret how things ended with us.  
Do you remember the look you had on your face when I flipped the table? I do. I can’t shake it.  
Ever since you left I haven’t been the same. You kept me together, made me better, made me want to do better. And now, I drink. Even after I swore I wouldn’t, even after I swore I wouldn’t turn out to be like my father.  
I smoke, more than I should. Honestly, I could probably smoke a whole pack of cigarettes in an hour if I truly felt like it. And it still wouldn’t be enough. Though I’ve always smoked, not this bad but all the same really. Do you remember what I told you made me start again? I always thought it was just for the hell of it, no, it was my grandmother. It was something we shared, one last thing we did together, as weird and bad as it seems. And then I lost her. Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, she passed, though if you would have ever answered my calls you would have known that already. It’s okay, I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t take my calls either so.  
But she passed, and man, it was rough. The hardest thing I ever had to go through. I thought to lose you was the worst. Oh, how I was wrong. The last 5 days I spent with her was, well, there are no words to describe the exact feeling. Watching her resting, watching her struggle, it made me lose my mind. It was something you’d never expect. You knew her, you’ve heard the stories. You’d never of thought she’d pass, least not anytime soon. And oh how she loved you, god it makes me sick how much she loved you, how much she loved us. She loved when we’d hang out. She loved how happy I was whenever you were around. I find myself traveling back to the times we shared, you, her, and I, on the porch, laughing until we couldn’t breathe. It hurts though, to remember.  
I’ve lost you both now, and it’s unbearable. Her laughs were my favorite, and now they’ve become so faint and distant I’m not sure if it’s even her laugh anymore. I got to tell her goodbye though, and that I loved her with everything I was and that I’d be okay without her if she needed to go. And now, now I’m not sure. I’m fine, I swear I’m fine, but then I remember something or hear someone talk in a similar tone of voice as her, and then I’m not okay. I don’t think I ever will be, and it kills me because she’s not here anymore, and neither are you.  
I can’t run to you when a memory hits me just right; I can’t call you late at night when I wake up in a cold sweat desperate to hear you tell me everything will be okay. You’re both gone and it kills me. I miss you, Sarah, I miss you so much. I’m not a Christian, I swear I’m not, but I pray every day that I’ll get the chance to fix us, to fix everything I fucked up between us. I wish I could take the blame for all this, but alas I cannot. You had a fair share in this as well as I did. Through all the fights and all the arguments, this is on us both. I fucked everything up by wanting what’s best for us, by trying, by fighting for us, by being honest with how I felt and telling you when you were wrong. And you, you let your mother ruin us.  
Let’s be honest for a minute, we both know she never liked me since she first found out about me, even after she met me, and even still after she seemed to “like” me. She never approved and she never will. You let her put her nose where it should never have been. If I called you, to talk to you and you only, if I had a bad day and just wanted to listen to you ramble on just for the soothing of your voice, she always seemed to have to be right there, stuck up your ass, like she had nothing else better to do. And really, she didn’t. No job, no car, hardly any friends, and clearly, no place to go, so really, she never did have anything else better to do. It angers me when she would talk down to you, make you feel like shit, and then expect you to be perfectly okay with her actions and words. We’re 22 now, which means only 2 years ago we had our fall out. Even though we were 20, adults, she treated you like shit, like you were a child, incapable of doing anything. And what pisses me off most is you let her. You’d call me and complain of her for hours on end, and yet, you still let her do it. I’d try to give you the motivation to change it, I tried to give you the courage to tell her to mind her own business, I even offered you a place to stay, to let her have your house and you could live with me, but no matter what I tried to do you just wouldn’t do it. I honestly couldn’t tell you of all the countless fights we’ve had because of her. I never ever wanted to be that person to make you rid of your family, to cut them off completely, but who am I to let you suffer and stay with those who are toxic, who only want you to fail. Who am I to claim to care about you but let you stay with such people? I couldn’t just look the other way, not when I cared about you, and you were clearly unhappy. I tried, I really did, but alas I failed.  
Do you remember the last day we saw each other? That was the day I walked away from you for good. Your mom decided to go camping, you, her, and a few other people. I only walked to see you because I wanted to try one last time, and you were at the camp grounds just a few short miles from where I lived at the time. It took me almost 2 hours to get there, and we sat by the lake until the sun started to set. It was nice for once until I said I needed to go. You wanted me to stay, and your mother wasn’t going to allow it. You argued back and forth, and each time she let something the slightest bit hateful slip out of her mouth, she would look me dead in the eyes, and I knew she meant every word. I got fed up, fast. I knew nothing would ever change with you, not as long as you let your mother continue to have a say in what you do. I don’t remember much of what I said, but I do remember saying something along the lines of “Ya know what, piss off, both of you, I’ve had it” before I turned to leave. And then your mother decided to grow a pair of balls, and said something, I can’t quite remember what, but I stopped and turned to face her, and the second I opened my mouth to say something back she cut me off and finally told me exactly how she felt about me. How she absolutely hated me, that every time she saw me it made her sick. She couldn’t believe her daughter befriended someone such as me, that I wasn’t fit to call you by your name, let alone anything else. I stopped listening to most of it, I had turned to leave but for whatever reason, I caught the last thing she said to me. She said if she had it her way she would have kicked my teeth in where I stood. And I lost it. In that very moment, I lost all respect for you and felt nothing for you. And I told your mother about herself, about how much of a piece of shit she was. I mean, we both know I was right, about everything I said, even if you won’t admit it. After I finished my sentence your mother was shocked I dare speak against her, and I guess grew bold and stepped to me and struck me. Hard enough that I was surprised to find there was no hand print on my cheek. It didn’t hurt; it only pissed me off further really. I lifted my head to meet her gaze and seeing the slight smirk she had made me snap. Before I could realize what I had done, my fist had struck your mothers nose and broke it in two places. Next thing I know you’re screaming at me. The only thing I remember you saying to me was how could I hit your mother, how could I? After you just allowed her to say such shit to me, and then strike me? But how dare I break her nose, after she very much deserved it. That, that right there is why I walked away. I told you to go fuck yourself and go marry your mother since she’s your one and only priority. That was so hard for me. To walk away from you like that, to say what I said. I never told you, but I was in love with you. I still am, that’s why this all hurts so much, for me at least. I hope you’re doing okay. I heard you met someone and got engaged, I hope he treats you right.  
Sometimes, when I can’t sleep, I replay that day at the camp grounds over in my head. Searching for answers, desperate to find a way I could have done things differently. What if I just took it, just dealt with you both treating me like shit, maybe then you’d still be here. But it would have only made me more self-destructive. I remember the look you had in your eyes when you begged and pleaded for me not to walk away. That look eats at me. You tried to message me, to explain, to say anything at all in hopes of me talking to you again. But I didn’t wanna hear it, I couldn’t. There was absolutely no excuse for you letting your mother do what she did, to both of us. And even more so when you allowed her to say what she did and then hit me. Nothing was going to make me forgive you, not even hearing you tell me you love me too. I couldn’t take it anymore.  
I’m only writing this to you, Sarah, in hopes you learn the truth, from my point of view, and not manipulated by anyone else’s, not that you’d care.  
So, dear Sarah,  
I love you, more than anything. I’ve never had anything like we had before, not in anyone, and I searched for years and came up with nothing. I’m glad I got the chance to meet you, to be a part of your life, even if for such a short time. I’m glad I can replay all these memories we’ve made, no matter how many times I cut myself on the sharp edges looking back. I’m happy my grandmother met you and loved you, and made me realize just how much I loved you as well. It took losing you to really know just how much I loved you. It took not being able to talk to you anymore, having good or bad news and not having you just a call away, not being able to hear your voice and longing for it once more.  
And tonight, as I take my very last breath, I can finally remember the color of your eyes. They’re brown, but not basic brown. No, they’re so deep with color you get lost in them, almost as if there are tiny worlds in your eyes that have yet to be discovered. They’re an all too familiar dark and cold depth, one you can only hope not to personally experience. But tonight, as I lay in this road, I hope this letter gets to you. And I too hope you realize just how much you love me. Only you’ll be losing me for good, with no chances of fixing us. But I hope I made a difference with the very last thing I’d ever do again. I was walking, listening to music as I was headed home after a stressful day of work. I noticed something about the woman in front of me. Her hair was the exact same color as yours. I didn’t think anything of it, only that is just reminded me of you once more. The woman and I were just a stride or two apart from each other, and the only two to be crossing the street. I don’t know why but something told me to look up, to the right of us to be exact. And I’m glad I did. A woman had been arguing with some really tall husky man, and whatever it was she said, it set him off. I glanced down for a moment, only because what they did was none of my business, and then I heard it go off. One shot, two, three. By the second one, I had looked back over to the couple, the woman was terrified, running passed us in the opposite way, and with every step she took, the man followed her with his gun, set to kill. The third shot got way too close to the woman in front of me, and I couldn’t leave it be. I grabbed her and wrapped my arms around her from behind, shielding her as much as I could. And then I felt it. The shots continued. Four, five, six, and seven. Three of which had planted themselves in a decreasing line along my back, ranging from my right shoulder to my left hip. The firing stopped and my grip gave way and I felt myself sink to my knee, then the other. I reached my hand around my back, grabbing at nothing, feeling stunned at what had happened. I noted to myself that being shot didn’t hurt as much as people said it does. I looked up in front of me, and a single tear fell from my face once I saw that the woman in front of me was, in fact, you, Sarah. I let a few more fall as collapsed onto my back, knowing that the very last thing I ever did was save your life. And with my last breath, I told you I loved you, and you let tears fall as you threw yourself to my side and repeated what I said. “I love you too”. I’ll never forget the way that sentence sounded rolling off your tongue. It was perfect, pure. Even though we weren’t on good terms, I’m at peace with your facing being the last I see. I honestly couldn’t be happier. I’ve made my peace Sarah, and I hope you can too,

P.s. I forgive you. Forgive yourself too.

~ Swan


End file.
